Finding Frances, and oneself.
I was sitting at my desk with all my work for the day done. I, however, couldn’t leave the office. Unwritten rules — you know how it goes. As I observed around me, I noticed how everyone, in a general way, knew each other. I’ve been here for about half a month, so I’m not expecting a lot, but it got me thinking. How badly does workplace alienation affect a worker’s productivity? This topic is better covered in this wonderful article, but something still felt off. Why wasn’t the topic of ‘companionship’ leaving my head? Until it struck me. I’d watched the finale of “Nathan for You” last night.
For the uninitiated, “Nathan for You” is a television series created by and starring Canadian comedian Nathan Fielder. The show follows Nathan as he offers, let’s just say, unique business advice to struggling entrepreneurs, aiming to help them turn their businesses around. The show is distinctive in what it does because it blurs the lines between satire and reality, hence providing a surreal exploration of entrepreneurship, consumerism, and the human psyche. Nathan conflates his personality on the show with the person he is to create one of the weirdest leading characters I’ve come across. I’d normally say spoilers ahead, but you need to watch this unfold even if you know what’s going to go down.
As the show got through its first two seasons, I could count on it for a belly laugh every episode. I just couldn’t believe the schemes he’d map out (the less I tell you about these, the better. Go in blind.) and the results of the same. When the third season rolled in, however, you could sense a tinge of… darkness? desolation? The tonal shift could be (emphasis on could; it’s just a theory) attributed to his (real-life) divorce from Sarah Ziowalska. Of course, the show remained funny, but it had an undertone of despondency, which wasn’t as apparent in the other seasons. Episodes like “Smokers Allowed” and “The Hero” showed us sides of Nathan (the character) that he’d never hinted at before. Loneliness had always been a theme used for comedic effect, but seeing it used as the payoff for a plot point threw me off, and then some.
The fourth season was all about catching up with the people he had ‘helped’, and a few more capers for slight comedic relief. There was a tone of finality to it all, but nothing could have prepared me for the finale. In “Finding Frances”, Nathan Fielder helps an ageing Bill Gates impersonator (don’t ask) find his long-lost love of 50 years, Frances. The episode is a meditation on love, loneliness, the universal need for companionship, and ultimately, our flaws. It is also the one point in the show where reality and performance truly seem to blur, providing a captivating insight into what makes a human tick in their quest to fulfil their desires. Nathan also meets an escort, Maci, with whom he strikes a bond. But we’ll get to that later.
The Bill Gates impersonator, William Heath, is a 78-year-old man whose only real connection lies with his football team, the Arizona Razorbacks. No wife, no children. There was an old flame, though. Frances Gaddy, someone years younger than him (ethically dubious but par for the course for that time). He paints a rosy picture of their relationship, talking about how it just didn’t pan out and how he left her for his Hollywood career (which didn’t pan out). But as the show moves ahead, we realise we don’t fully know what’s up. Lies, cheating, angry letters — there’s a lot to uncover.
In the process of uncovering this information, Nathan meets Maci (the show works in ways more complex than my explanation can do it justice). As time goes on, he develops a romantic bond with her in exchange for cash. It’s a fascinating rumination on the dilemmas one faces while building a relationship. The resolution to this side plot is particularly well crafted. We also discover how he’s drawing parallels to William. Both seem lost, one seeking unknown (and perhaps unrequited) love and the other conditional. Most of this is a character, but Nathan Fielder (the real one) has often talked about how he feels awkward connecting with people and how the show mirrors a part of who he is.
William is a complicated man. A Fox News-watching, Trump-supporting, callous individual with an alarming amount of disrespect towards women, he still lives in the delusion of him sweeping her off her feet to live their life together. In his mind, he is still someone. In an elaborate ploy brought about to get some details about Frances, he fully dives into his part, almost stealing the show. Words don’t do the performance justice, as there are layers to it. On the surface lies his act — something he enjoys. Below that is his need to appease everyone (and, by God, does he do that). Below that, however, is a man whose dreams have been crushed and whose only outlet is performing a song to his geriatric peers, pretending to be someone else. Tragic? Comedic? You decide.
His logic, in some perverse way, makes sense in a rudimentary manner. He looked good; she professed her ever-lasting love to him over multiple letters; why wasn’t she his? His persistence on what’s right and what’s wrong (that is, a binary worldview) ultimately restricts him from seeing what’s right in front of him — that some things can’t be explained through logic. Things happen. Without spoiling too much, towards the end of the episode, there’s a point where William just can’t shake off who he is. There is some resolution to the whole plot, but it’s almost a tragicomedy in its bizarreness. There’s something for Nathan too, but that’s a topic for another day.
How does this tie into my loneliness, though? What I want to convey from this, however, is how vital love is. We all need someone to love, no matter what the circumstances. Someone to fall back on. I don’t think I’m the only one to notice how our attitudes towards relationships have gotten more lackadaisical as the years have gone by. Gone are the days when couples would actually stick by each other’s mistakes. We’re rushing through life, not knowing what to hold onto. Throwing everything at the wall, we hope something sticks. Sometimes, nothing does.
This is not me virtue signalling to you all to immediately find the love of your life. I know it isn’t that easy, and sometimes you just don’t want to. That’s completely fine. What isn’t fine, however, is how callous we’ve grown after years of negativity changing us. It took me a lot to realise this, and I know one blog post isn’t going to change you, but think about it.
Pursue the person who you think might be ‘the one’. Hell, this could apply to anything. Friends, family members, anyone and anything. I picked up running precisely based on this philosophy of sticking to doing what you love, and while that may not have worked out well for me (IT Band Syndrome), at least I learned something. It wasn’t a what-if. I wasn’t William Heath. Neither should you.
